


Only The Best For You

by Casloveshisfreckles



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2018 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean in Panties, Destiel - Freeform, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, POV Castiel, Panty Kink, Top!Cas, Tumblr: spnkinkbingo, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casloveshisfreckles/pseuds/Casloveshisfreckles
Summary: Castiel receives an invitation for drinks and if the room key included is any indication, a night he's going to enjoy very much.Square Filled: Panty Kink





	Only The Best For You

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my first story to fill my first square in this year's SPN Kink Bingo. 
> 
> Dean in panties? Sign me up! 
> 
> In the interest of full disclosure, [FanforFanatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanforfanatic/) is to blame for all my sins.

At 7:45pm, on the dot, an envelope is hand delivered to Castiel Milton in his office on the 110th floor of the building in which he works. Castiel has the corner, floor to ceiling windows in an office made of glass, an office he’s worked very hard to earn, an office he’s enjoyed very much over the years.

He’s also hated it. He hates it right now, when it’s dark outside and all Castiel can see is his own reflection, still in front of his computer, still working, still crunching numbers that have been crunched too many times, the end of the fiscal year making his existence hell.

Castiel is stressed. He wants nothing more than to go home, relax, maybe have a nice soak in the hot tub with a glass of whiskey. He’s deep in thought about how he’d like to unwind so it’s no surprise the knock on his door makes him jump. It’s not like him to get visitors—no one just _drops by_ Castiel Milton’s office—especially this late in the evening.

“Come in!”

A young woman enters with the envelope in hand. She’s dressed smart; a navy blue pantsuit with a stunning jacket that’s white with splashes of navy cutting through. Her flaming red hair is twisted in a knot on top of her head and black cat-eye glasses frame her eyes. The Louboutins she wears are from last season and much too impractical for a regular courier. Her lips twitch in amusement, like she can read Castiel’s thoughts.

She approaches his desk with confidence.

“Mr. Milton, I presume?” A smile plays at her lips.

Castiel studies her face but nods his assent.

She places the envelope in front of his clasped hands resting on his desk. “Your presence is requested,” she raises an eyebrow. “Sir.”

Castiel flicks his eyes down to the envelope and sees his name before looking back at his guest with a wry smile. “Thank you,” he replies as he takes the envelope in his hands.

She nods slightly and turns to go. Castiel watches her leave his office before sliding a finger under the envelopes closure, folding it open. He pulls a piece of card stock out of the envelope and sees, “ _Drinks?”_ printed on the card above the name of a local hotel bar, just two blocks away from Castiel’s office. A keycard is taped to the back. Castiel turns the card in his hands for a moment before tucking it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

He turns off his computer and the light on his desk before he shrugs into his trench coat, locking the door behind him for the night.

***

The bar is packed, almost every table full and people standing at the bar waiting to be served. As his luck would have it, there's an empty seat right in the corner of the bar. The maître d' takes his coat and Castiel smooths down his seersucker suit jacket, enjoying the light fabric against his palms.

Castiel very much appreciates nice things.

He unbuttons his jacket before he sits on the open barstool, observing the two bartenders at the other end of the bar, tending to the crowd. The taller of the two breaks away from his line of drinks with a whiskey on the rocks in one hand. He approaches Castiel and places the drink down on top of a black cocktail napkin.

“Thanks, Benny,” the man next to him calls over as the bartender returns to his duties.

Castiel turns, surprised.

“So, I have you to thank for this?” Castiel gestures at the drink.

The man shrugs. “Up to you. Seems like the polite thing to do, anyway.”

Castiel lifts the drink to his lips and the cool whiskey goes down smooth, scratching one itch Castiel harbors. The warmth settles in his chest like a heavy blanket, the kind you read under on cold winter nights. The kind you make love on top of in front of a fireplace.

He turns to take in his prospective suitor. Castiel can see he’s handsome, he’d have to be blind to miss it. His profile is strong, a broad nose and strong chin covered in a decent, clean stubble. Castiel imagines how it feels scraping across his tongue.

The man is dressed well in a royal blue suit—similar to the one he’s wearing, actually—his cuffs lined up, diamond cufflinks glinting off the light behind the bar. Castiel recognizes a perfectly tailored suit, sewn for the man wearing it. Castiel sees suits like that in the mirror every day. He appreciates a man who puts care into his public appearance, in such a way as this. To Castiel, it usually promises equal attention to detail in the bedroom.

“Well, thank you. Although I never saw you order it,” Castiel gives him a narrowed glance and receives another shrug.

“Benny is a good bartender. He knows what I need.”

“Is that so?”

“He’s worked for me for many years.” The man takes a drink of his own amber liquid, the ice rolling in the glass.

Castiel’s eyes follow the muscles of his throat as the alcohol slides down. He swallows thickly. “You’re the owner of this bar?”

“Oh no, Benny owns the bar. Named it after his wife Andrea.” He takes another drink before turning in his seat to face Castiel. “I’m the owner of this hotel.” He reaches out his hand, inviting Castiel to shake it. “Name’s Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s handshake is firm, his fingers thick and Castiel wonders how many it would take to make him feel full.

“I don't recall seeing your name on the building.”

Dean lifts an eyebrow and shrugs.

His eyes are emerald in the low light and his lips are pink and full and Castiel can’t stop himself from leaning closer. Dean’s nose and cheeks are covered with freckles and Castiel wants to taste every single one. Dean flicks his tongue out to wet his lips and Castiel can’t tear his eyes away.

A slow smile spreads across Dean’s face and he stands, much to Castiel’s disappointment. Benny is there now, ready to lean in as Dean speaks low in his ear, nodding when Dean pulls back.

Now that he’s standing, Castiel can admire him in his suit, his legs long and bowed, his waist trim, his shoulders broad and thick. His fingers are still captivating as he closes his jacket before smoothing it down. He looks incredible; flawless and confident.

Dean leans into Castiel’s personal space. “I hope you find your stay very accommodating, Mr. Milton,” his voice is low and hot against Castiel’s ear.

All Castiel can do is watch him leave, walking through the restaurant like he owns the place, giving new meaning to the saying.

When Castiel finally starts to process their interaction, he looks down at the bar top to find another drink, this one sitting on top of a piece of hotel stationary; a four digit number the only thing penned onto the paper.

_3326_

***

Castiel doesn’t go up right away; he finishes his drinks first. The elevator ride feels long, the floors slipping by in his ascent; he straightens his tie for the hundredth time and reminds himself to relax.

When the door lock beeps and grants him entrance; Castiel takes a deep breath and pushes down the door handle. The suite is dark and past the sitting room, Castiel can see the curtains drawn back, the city alive and pulsing in the night. None of that penetrates the room he’s entered, only the light from the hall casting long shadows across the floor. The door clicks shut behind him and he shrugs out of his trench coat, folding it over the nearest chair.

Castiel walks through the sitting room and into the bedroom, unbuttons his jacket and takes it off slowly, one arm at a time. He takes a moment to open the closet so he can hang it properly, the interior light revealing another jacket already occupying the space. He pays no mind and closes the door when he’s done. Before he can turn, a light clicks on and a throat clears.

“Is the room to your liking, Mr. Milton?”

Castiel makes a slow turn to find Dean, leaning against the wall, illuminated by the light he turned on. Castiel’s breath hitches in his throat.

Dean wears nothing but black silk stockings wrapped around his long, bowed legs. The tops of the stockings are black lace with light purple ribbons woven in. Black garter belts rest against the top of Dean’s tan thighs, freckles scattered under them.

Castiel almost bites a hole in his lip when his eyes reach Dean’s thick cock wrapped in lilac satin panties. They leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The cut flatters Dean, riding high on his sharp hips and dipping low enough to make Castiel’s mouth water. Castiel can see every line of Dean's dick and he wants to devour him.

Castiel’s eyes continue up, to Dean’s slim hips complimented by the perfect vee of his pelvis, met soon by a slightly soft stomach and Dean’s upper abs. His thick fingers stroke his stomach in a hypnotic way and Castiel loses time watching them. He follows Dean’s hands as they slide up to his nipples, his deft fingers making quick work of them, both pebbling under his own touch.

Castiel sucks in a sharp breath.

Dean laughs.

“Why don’t you have a seat, sir,” Dean suggests, his eyes flicking to the chair next to the bed. “I’ll make you another drink.”

Castiel can’t move when Dean turns away, his perfect round ass on display, the black garters stretching over his firm ass to hook into Dean’s panties. He’s incredible.

God, but those panties. They are the perfect shade of lilac and they compliment Dean perfectly. Anyone can throw on a pair of panties but to see a man like Dean wearing them arouses Castiel in a way that makes him painfully hard in his slacks.

Looking at him like this feels like a privilege and Castiel will not take it for granted.

He finally rips his eyes from the gorgeous man making him a drink at the small bar and sits in the chair offered to him. Dean comes to stand beside Castiel, a whiskey sour in his hand. Castiel’s favorite. He can’t stop himself from sliding his hand from the back of Dean’s knee and up his thigh, his touch light and ghosting over Dean’s skin. Castiel looks up at the man standing next to him and Castiel’s lips part when Dean strokes his cheek tenderly.

Castiel whimpers when Dean steps away. It gives Dean pause. “Was there something else you needed, Mr. Milton?” He swings one leg over Castiel’s thighs and drops into his lap, his thighs wide open and straddling Castiel. “Did you need room service?”

Castiel takes a deep breath and holds it, only releasing it after he gets to the count of ten. Dean shifts his hips down and when Castiel grabs him roughly, he smiles and takes one of Castiel’s hands and starts to roll up Castiel’s sleeves. When Dean’s done, he locks eyes with Castiel as he unbuttons his shirt, licking his lips when he pulls open Castiel’s tie. Castiel’s hands drift idly over Dean’s spread thighs, his panties straining in all the right places. He runs his thumbs over the garter belt, down the straps to the tops of Dean’s stockings to snap them against Dean’s inner thighs.

Dean sighs softly.

He has Castiel’s shirt open and pulled free from his pants. Dean sweeps his hands across Castiel’s chest and presses a chaste kiss to his sternum.

Dean’s hair smells like sandalwood and autumn sunsets.

And then Dean has left him and Castiel’s traitorous hands reach out, falling short as Dean crawls onto the bed on his hands and knees, slinking like a jungle cat until he reaches the middle of the bed before he rocks to his knees and arches his back to stare at Castiel over his shoulder.

“Sir?”

Castiel accepts the invitation and abandons his drink in favor of what’s in front of him. He presses his knees to the mattress between Dean’s legs and groans when Dean drops to his elbows, presenting his gorgeous ass. The straps of his garter stretch tight over the swell of his cheeks and Castiel runs his finger under one strap to pull it away from Dean’s skin. Dean’s breath hitches.

Castiel lets the strap snap back against Dean’s ass and it’s a satisfying sound Dean makes when it comes in contact with his soft skin. Castiel runs fingers under both straps and Dean twitches, anticipating the snap. Castiel forgoes it in favor of dragging his fingers along the edge of Dean’s panty where it trails down Dean’s spread ass. He pulls them to the side to reveal Dean’s pretty, perfect hole. When Dean shifts, his ring of muscle moves with him and Castiel breaks.

Castiel’s mouth consumes Dean’s pucker as he flattens his tongue and laps at Dean’s hole which earns him a high keen from Dean, despite having his head buried into the sheets. He snaps Dean’s thong back into place making Dean buck his hips. Castiel soothes him by licking wet stripes along the crack of his ass, soaking the delicate fabric under his tongue. Dean tastes so good and Castiel can’t wait to be buried inside him.

Dean is still bent over, his shoulders pressing into the mattress, his face turned to allow harsh breaths to escape from his lips. His hands are splayed over his head, both fists clenched in the white sheets and the long line of his back is a tease to Castiel. He wants to put his mouth on every inch of the man in front of him; Castiel wants to consume Dean.

Castiel twists his fingers in the silk on Dean’s hips and receives a heated glare from Dean. He’d never destroy something as delicate as the silk Dean is wrapped in, especially since he hasn’t gotten Dean to make a mess of them yet.

He sweeps his hands over the swell of Dean’s ass, drags his thumbs along Dean’s rim and up over his hips, eliciting a filthy groan from Dean. Castiel needs to make him do that again.

His hands continue their ascent, Dean’s skin pliant under Castiel’s touch. He curls like a cat under the drag of Castiel’s palms and comes willingly when Castiel wraps his fingers around Dean’s throat to bring him closer. When Dean’s back is pressed to his chest, Castiel tightens his hold, squeezing Dean’s throat. Castiel can feel Dean’s pulse fluttering. His beautiful surrender makes Castiel hard.

“Mr. Winchester,” he growls into Dean’s ear. “You look incredible in silk.”

“I’m so glad you approve, Mr. Milton.” Dean chokes out. “Only the best for you.”

Dean certainly is the best.

Castiel pulls Dean by the hair to press his head into Castiel’s shoulder. He takes Dean’s exposed neck and bites into Dean’s jaw, dragging his teeth along the bolt. Stubble drags against his tongue and Dean whimpers in his throat and Castiel can feel the rumble under his hands. His cock strains against his pants.

“Are you all right with getting these gorgeous panties dirty? I’m going to make you come in them.” Castiel reaches around and strokes light fingers over Dean’s hard cock. It’s perfect in length, thick and straining against silk.

“Please,” Dean begs in a breathy whisper. Castiel releases his hold on Dean’s neck and strokes his fingers against the hollow of Dean’s throat. Dean shakes his head and pushes Castiel’s hand back in its place and squeezes over Castiel’s hand in encouragement. Dean’s incredible and Castiel tells him.

“You’re perfect,” he resumes his pressure. “You’re everything I need.” Castiel is getting desperate. “I’m going to open you up now, may I?”

Dean growls and leans forward, Castiel’s hand releasing him with ease and sliding to the back of Dean’s neck. He kneads the muscle there as Dean grabs lube he has hidden in the sheets and he pushes the bottle into one of Castiel’s hands and grabs the other to put it back around his neck. Dean grinds his ass into Castiel’s crotch and fuck, _fuck._

Castiel opens the bottle and slicks up a finger before sliding his hand between them. Dean’s hips twitch in anticipation.

“Settle,” Castiel says with a squeeze, for him as much as for Dean. Dean stills.

Castiel pulls Dean’s panties to the side before pressing his wet finger against Dean’s hole. He twitches under Castiel’s touch. Castiel takes his time, pressing and pushing at Dean’s rim, stroking his finger up and down the crack of Dean’s ass. On the next slide down, he pauses over Dean’s hole and pushes inside, stopping to allow Dean to get used to the sensation.

While Castiel plays, Dean gets more and more worked up. When Castiel slips another finger inside, Dean cries out and pushes back against Castiel’s fingers, greedy. Castiel stills him with another squeeze to his throat. He removes his fingers and Dean whines, begging for Castiel to fill him.

By the time Castiel decides Dean is ready, he’s three fingers deep and teasing Dean’s prostate and Dean’s pliant in Castiel’s arms, his hips moving in lazy circles as Castiel rocks his fingers in and out of Dean’s ass.

“You’re so good for me, opened up so easy,” he murmurs into Dean's throat. “Are you ready for my cock, Mr. Winchester?”

Dean moans and clenches around Castiel’s fingers. He smiles into Dean’s neck and guides them down into the bed. Dean’s legs fall open and Castiel settles between them when he sees Dean’s panties, the lilac lace turned dark and shiny with Dean’s pre-come. Castiel runs his thumb along Dean’s length and looks at the man under him.

Dean’s lips are swollen and slick and he pulls at his hair, his eyes screwed shut. He’s lost in pleasure Castiel gave him and he’s a fucking gift.

Castiel likes to keep those.

He unbuckles his belt and drags his zipper down. Dean’s eyes fly open at the sound and he zeroes in on Castiel as he pulls his cock out of his pants. Castiel’s eyes flick between his own weeping cock sliding between his fist and Dean’s face, his pupils blown wide as he watches Castiel fist himself.

“You and your hotel have been so accom—” Castiel trips over his words as Dean starts to pant, his chest heaving, sweat glistening across his collarbones. He slows his strokes. “So accommodating. I want to show you how much I appreciate that.” He spreads Dean’s thighs wider and lines the head of his cock with Dean’s entrance.

“I want you to tell me where you want me to come tonight,” Castiel says as he pushes inside of Dean. Dean’s eyes flutter shut as Castiel slides inside him with a roll of his hips. He takes a shuddering breath and Castiel rocks back, pulling out of Dean with a hot slide before slamming back into him. Dean clenches around him with a filthy moan.

“Tell me, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel encourages. He needs Dean to tell him because Castiel doesn’t think he’ll last much longer if Dean doesn’t stop making that noise he makes every time Castiel fucks into him. He quickens his pace and the sound of his hips slapping against Dean’s ass is drowned out by Dean’s cries; a litany of Castiel’s name and his requests for more, for Castiel to go deeper, for Castiel to fuck him harder.

Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s open legs and grinds them together, stopping his strokes. Dean begs him to move.

“I asked you to tell me where you want me to come,” Castiel growls out. He pushes their hips together. “Inside you?” Dean thrashes against the sheets as Castiel drags his hands against Dean’s hard dick, still trapped in lace. “Here?” Dean whimpers.

Castiel’s heart pounds as he runs his hands up Dean’s chest and tugs on his nipples. “What about here?” When Dean doesn’t answer, he slides one hand back around Dean’s throat and strokes his cheek with the other. Dean stares at him, wide eyes filled with trust and things Castiel doesn’t need words for. He thumbs at Dean’s open mouth.

“Would you like me to come on your face.” Castiel leans in. “Sir?”

“Fuck—Cas, please,” Dean begs before pulling them together and taking Castiel’s mouth in a heated kiss. If Castiel thought he was going to last any longer, he's sadly mistaken. Dean's hot tongue exploring his mouth is Castiel’s undoing.

The fire in his belly ignites, and he pulls out of Dean with a cry, rocking his hips up. Dean is all hands as he slides down and yanks at Castiel’s pants, getting a handful of his ass to pull Castiel closer. Dean cups his balls and tugs as Castiel strips his wet cock, the sight of Dean, his mouth open and waiting pushing him over the edge.

White pearls of come splash on Dean's face, contrasting nicely with his flushed cheeks and freckles.

“God, you're gorgeous,” Castiel tells him as Dean sucks his cock into his mouth. Dean's sinful mouth sucks Castiel down, taking every drop of come and his eyes are locked on Castiel as he does it. Castiel enjoys sliding his softening cock in and out of Dean's mouth for a moment before he notices Dean's eyes taking on a hint of desperation.

He's forgotten his manners.

Castiel pulls his cock from Dean's mouth and he protests with a disappointed noise which Castiel soothes with his thumb against Dean's lips. Dean flicks his tongue out to taste.

Castiel presses his thumb against Dean's mouth and he sucks it inside his mouth and Castiel groans at Dean's enthusiasm. He works his way down Dean's body, sucking dark marks around his nipples that he soothes with sweet kisses.

Dean claws at his shoulders as Castiel reaches his stomach and drags his tongue against the soft skin. He bites into Dean's hips and drags his mouth down to suck the head of Dean's cock through the wet silk. The sensation makes his cock twitch and all he can think of is tasting Dean.

Castiel pulls Dean's panties down and tucks them under his balls, his eyes drifting over Dean's thick cock, wet and flushed and ready for Castiel to suck down. He looks back at Dean's face and he's watching Castiel, his bottom lip clamped between his teeth. Their eyes lock and Castiel guides Dean's cock to his lips, flicking his tongue out to lick the tip. Dean's mouth falls slack as Castiel swirls his tongue around his head, dirty wet noises coming from his mouth.

Dean is delicious.

His cock is throbbing in Castiel’s mouth and he savors the taste and the weight on his tongue. He sends up a quick thought of gratitude at not having a gag reflex when he deep throats Dean, his nose buried in the coarse hair at the base of Dean's dick.

Dean clenches Castiel’s hair and he chokes on Castiel’s name when his cock hits the back of Castiel’s throat. Castiel swallows around it and Dean pulses in his mouth as he comes with a long keen. He pushes his cock deeper into Castiel’s throat and Castiel loves the way Dean loses himself in his pursuit of pleasure.

Castiel doesn't pull off until Dean's hand falls from his hair and onto the bed. Castiel nuzzles Dean's soft cock and pulls the now ruined panties off him, one leg at a time. Dean blinks up at him but grins in that lazy way Castiel loves. Dean will want to sleep in his stockings because he loves the way their legs slide together during the night. Castiel likes it too.

He removes his suit and stuffs all his clothes into the laundry bag, leaving it outside the door. In the morning, he'll have a freshly laundered suit to wear home.

Only the best.

He comes back to the bedroom to find Dean wearing only his garters and stockings, splayed out on his stomach, his cute butt on display for Castiel to appreciate.

“You gonna stand there and stare at me all night?”

Castiel grins. “Maybe.”

“Get your ass in this bed, Mr. Milton,” Dean grumps.

Castiel carries none of the stress he arrived with when he wraps Dean in his arms and slides his knee between Dean's legs. Dean pushes back, like if he tries hard enough, he can melt into Castiel and Castiel tightens his hold on the man to encourage him.

He's busy peppering kisses along the back of Dean's neck and enjoying the little sighs Dean's making when he rolls over in Castiel’s arms to kiss him. Dean's lips are plump and fit perfectly with Castiel’s and he lets the slide of them together relax him.

Dean is first to break their kiss and Castiel growls softly in the back of his throat.

“Oh, hush,” Dean admonishes him. “Did you finish your reports?” He props his head on his hand to look down at Castiel. “I know you hate year end.”

Castiel smiles. “I was finishing up when my invitation was delivered,” Castiel replies before he pulls Dean back in for a kiss. “We'll have to celebrate, Milton Hotels had our best year yet.”

Dean beams.

“Thanks to you.” Castiel wants to give Dean credit where it's due.

Dean scoffs. “Thanks to _us._ ”

Yes, Dean's right, he supposes. They've both worked hard to be successful and enjoy their achievements in the best ways possible.

“How'd you get Charlie to do that for you, anyway?” Castiel asks.

Dean laughs and it's the best sound in the world. “She owed me one.”

“It was a nice touch,” Castiel concedes.

Dean grins, and leans in for a kiss. “Only the best for my husband.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/casloveshisfreckles)!


End file.
